


Wine and Ice Cream

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Hook-Up, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Romance, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27964109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: After several glasses of impeccable wine, Pansy slips away from Draco's engagement dinner and into the wine cellar, where she stumbles across the magical grape-grower himself: Neville Longbottom. Only he's nothing like she remembers.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 221
Collections: mightbewriting mightbehavingabirthday





	Wine and Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mightbewriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightbewriting/gifts).



> _Author's Note:_ Happy birthday Mightbewriting! I hope you enjoy this silly little attempt at a Panville. Have a wonderful day!
> 
> Thanks to Curly_Kay for giving this a read through in advance.

* * *

It wasn't that Pansy didn't want to see her friends happy.

Objectively, she had always wanted to see her friends living their best lives, even if it was something she'd always kept a little close to the chest. She was fiercely loyal and wanted the best for the people she cared about. Even Draco― _especially_ Draco.

Because Merlin knew Draco had been dealt enough shitty cards early in life, and she was proud of him for seizing a shot at something more.

Even if that shot was Hermione Granger.

Judging by the besotted look on his face every time he looked at the fluffy brunette, she was it for him―and vice-versa, because Draco seemed to be able to throw the quick-witted woman off her guard just as easily.

Pansy was happy for them. And she had been one of the first to congratulate them on their engagement.

But they were _just so insufferable_ together. She had never seen Draco like this over anyone, and his usually stoic exterior had simply gone gooey over his bride-to-be.

Which was what led Pansy to wandering the vineyard where they had arranged for their engagement dinner, halfway drunk off admittedly fantastic wine. After some time she found herself dragging her sore feet into a cellar that was most assuredly off limits to patrons, cursing the inadequate cushioning charms on her stilettos.

Crates filled with a range of vintages covered the walls, and in the far corner she could see a number of wooden barrels.

The rich scent of oak assailed her senses and she sank against the wall, basking in the quiet peace of it.

Pansy wasn't the _last_ of her friends to pair up, but with Draco effectively taking himself off the market, she was officially outnumbered. And recently she had been considering the idea of settling down, herself―the only problem was that she was more single than ever.

She'd always found the idea of marriage overrated, anyway. Her own parents' relationship was enough of a disaster to deter her from making such a commitment.

Maybe she just needed to get laid.

Pressing her shoulders back against the wall, Pansy peered at the nearest wine cabinet to inspect the vintages. Idly, she wondered whether anyone would notice if she swiped a bottle. A particularly enticing label caught her eye.

She could simply leave a few Galleons, and skulk off to get drunk on her own.

"Excuse me―miss, you can't be down here."

Pansy jolted upright, scanning the room as someone approached. She edged away from the bottles, fixing an innocent expression onto her face.

"I apologise, I didn't realise I wasn't―" The words dropped from her tongue when she met startled green eyes. " _Longbottom_?"

Longbottom folded his arms across his chest as he stepped towards her. "You're going to have to return to the party upstairs, Parkinson."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, not entirely able to infuse the words with the intended level of derision. She hadn't seen Neville Longbottom in nearly a decade, and while she still recognised who he was in an instant, he was not at all how she remembered.

He shifted on the spot, tapping the sole of one shoe on the stone floor. "What do you mean? It's my vineyard. That's why Hermione and Draco arranged to have the party here."

" _Yours_?"

The skin around his eyes tightened. "I don't run the business; I tend the fruit and make the wine."

Pansy couldn't help but gape at him for a moment before she clamped her mouth shut. Her eyes darted to the lean muscles of his arms and she drawled, "I suppose you did always like plants."

"Right, well." He dragged a hand across the back of his neck, a slow grin warming his face. "This is where a mastery in Herbology has landed me―an expert in grapes."

The disconnect between Longbottom as she remembered him from Hogwarts and the man standing before her would have been enough to make her head spin, even without the three glasses of wine she had consumed at dinner.

"To be fair..." Her lips curled into a smile. "The wine is excellent. Must be some magical grapes."

He chuckled, eyes meeting hers. "High praise. I'm glad you think so―but you still can't be down here, Parkinson."

Pansy's tongue dipped out to moisten her lips, and she watched him follow the movement. "Trade secrets and all that."

"Something like that."

She ducked her chin as she caught his gaze, feeling the heat from his stare sear into her. The wine from earlier warmed her veins, lowering her inhibitions and spurring on her desires.

"Shame," she purred, holding his stare, "because I'm not in a rush to go back."

Longbottom huffed a laugh, shaking his head slowly. "Are you coming on to me Parkinson?"

Something about his easy countenance tugged a smile at her lips, and she offered a flippant shrug. "Maybe."

He smelled a rich, earthy combination of wine and fresh dirt, the scent of it oddly comforting as he planted a hand to the wall by her face.

"Interesting," he said, the word gruff.

Pansy peered up at him, brows lifting as he stared at her with intense consideration. But she could see the look in his eye―and throwing caution to the wind, Pansy curled her fingers in the fabric of his collar and tugged him in.

His kiss was firm and assertive as his lips met hers, hands curling around her hips as he backed her into the wall, and Pansy's heart leapt into her throat as she snaked her hands up into his hair. The muscles of his chest were firm against her, and she sucked in a tight breath as she kissed him, tongue grazing his.

All too soon, Longbottom broke away, his breathing heavy, and stared at her for a long moment. "I'm working."

She nodded, snagging her bottom lip between her teeth. "When are you done?"

His eyes flit to his watch. "Another hour."

"I'll wait." Pansy shrugged, surprised when he burst out with a laugh.

"This is some sort of trick, right?" Longbottom asked, looking around the dim cellar with a chuckle. "You aren't _actually_ looking to shag against a wall."

His amusement was disarming, and Pansy scrunched up her nose. "I suppose not." Against her volition, a giggle slipped from her mouth as she considered the statement. "I can't say I'm feeling all that discerning tonight."

"I'm _not_ going to take that as an insult." A grin tugged at his lips as he stared at her. "You're much different than I recall."

Pansy didn't know whether she was willing to admit to him that she found him not only to be different, but far more alluring than she remembered. She searched his stare, finding a certain comfort she never would have expected. Strong and warm and _dependable_.

Characteristics she often swerved away from in a man―not that it was necessarily a good thing―but she couldn't quite comprehend the fluttering in her stomach.

"You shouldn't," she breathed, the words falling belatedly from her lips. "You're different than I remember, too."

"Look, Parkinson," he said, dropping his head into a tilt as he dragged his fingertips along her arm. "I have a counter-offer."

Her eyes shot open, uncertain what _exactly_ he was into. Some of the wine buzz had begun to dissipate from her brain with the encounter, and she cocked one brow to hide a sudden surge of insecurity.

"What's the offer?" she asked in an effort at flippant disdain.

Longbottom offered a thin smile, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw. "I've had a craving for ice cream all week."

"Ice cream," Pansy echoed with a tight swallow. "Is that some sort of code, or―"

He barked a bright laugh, amusement lighting his face. "It's code for ice cream."

She only stared at him.

"It means, after I'm done work I'm going to Fortescue's for a scoop of his famous chocolate peanut butter." Longbottom hesitated, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "And you're welcome to join me if you'd like."

Pansy sucked in a sharp breath as the words fell into place at last and she folded her arms. "And what if I don't feel like ice cream?"

Longbottom rolled his eyes. "Then you don't need to have ice cream. It isn't complicated."

Gnawing on her knuckle, she assessed him for a moment, her lips still tingling with the warmth of his kisses. Idly, she wondered whether he had pulled away because he could taste the wine on her tongue, and she didn't know what to make of that.

"Are you asking me out?"

Surely, Pansy didn't deserve someone so wholesome as Neville Longbottom. His lips twitched. "Yes."

But the glint in his eye incited her curiosity, and she found herself wondering about him.

The strange turn of events to the evening left Pansy on edge, but she couldn't look away as she breathed, "Okay."

"Okay," Longbottom echoed with a sharp nod. A crooked grin spread across his face. "I'll see you in an hour―and you _still_ can't stay down here."

A bright titter of laughter escaped Pansy's lips, surprising her. "One would think you're harbouring secrets, Longbottom."

His brows merely lifted high on his forehead. "You might find out one day."

Despite herself, a frisson of anticipation chased the length of her spine at the insinuation that they might have something to do with one another beyond a simple scoop of ice cream. And just maybe... she might like to keep him around.

Maybe Draco was on to something when he decided to pursue a Gryffindor.

"I'll hold you to that," she breathed, brushing a kiss to his cheek before leaving the cellar and infusing a bit of a swing into her step. She caught Longbottom's gaze over her shoulder when she chanced a glance back.

As she ascended to the main level and slipped back into her seat, she met the concern in Draco's eye.

"Alright, Pans?" he asked, dropping his voice.

A smile threatened at her lips but she kept her face straight and offered a nod. "Alright, thanks. Just needed a breath of air."

Draco fixed her with an odd stare before returning to his conversation with his fiancée.

Across the room, she spotted Longbottom speaking with someone, and his gaze flitted to land on hers. Pansy bit down on her lip to conceal a smile when he shot her a wink. Her stomach flopped with something she couldn't quite place and she whispered again to herself, "Alright."


End file.
